This Is Not a Smoothie Recipe
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“Did you know you have a heart murmur?” You’re at the gynecologist’s office, so this is up there on the list of Things You Were Not Expecting to Hear. “It's not the kind you need to be worried about,” she says, explaining something about a whooshing noise, but you’ve already stopped listening. All you can think about is how casually she delivered the news. “I'm chill,” you find yourself saying, maybe because she is, but maybe you actually are? Start with a giant handful of spinach, probably close to two cups.
Forty-four seems kind of late to be getting this information, but Google says heart murmurs can come and go at any time, and also that 10% of adults have one. Ok! That statistic does help. You've got a physical scheduled next month anyways, you'll just bring it up then. Measure out a large spoonful of peanut butter, and a big pinch of flaked sea salt.
Add a medium-ripe banana, and some coconut milk yogurt, because if you even look at dairy it’ll take you down for at least two days. You know this because you are very in touch with your body, or at least you thought you were, because now you're thinking about the vertigo you've had on and off since…last March? Has it really been that long? You were always so sure it was seasonal allergy related, but now you’re looking up “heart issues vertigo.” You’re feeling less chill.
Scoop out some pea protein, the kind that's been third-party tested for heavy metals and twice as expensive as the brand you used to use, but that Instagram post was convincing. So what’s 20 more dollars? And why not really try to put this out of your head for a while? Your physical is now only two weeks away and, yeah, you haven't felt great but…no wait, you really haven't felt great, and you can still barely move your neck after sleeping in a hotel bed last month. You search “neck pain heart issue.” You should not have done that.
Three days before your physical you leave a yoga class shaky and crying, with a weird, empty sensation in your hands and feet. “Maybe this is all just perimenopause,” you tell the nice intake nurse in the emergency room, as if 30 minutes earlier you weren't convinced this was the end. You get so many tests; they take so much blood. “You seem really healthy,” the doctor says. So why are you here? And what is this new, mid-40s obsession with mortality? Is it normal, or do you need to go back to therapy? Add 16 ounces of coconut water and blend longer than you think you need to. If the spinach is still piece-y, keep going.
As the blender rages, so do you. Because truly, what is the f*cking point of consuming two cups of raw, liquid spinach a day if you can still be felled by an opponent you never agreed to fight: a congenital heart issue, an errant cancer cell, the ill-timed fall of a tree branch? It is clear to you in a new way that there are things that will never, ever be under your control, and you sort of have to wonder how many times you’ll be forced to have this realization.
You leave the hospital with your EKG and CT scan results, and during your physical, your doctor will take this whole thing very seriously. There are a few things she’ll want to take a closer look at, so she’ll refer you for an echocardiogram, after which she'll assure you that there's absolutely nothing to worry about. Add a few ice cubes. Blend some more.
You've always known that upping your greens intake will not stave off death in its entirety, and that a consistent yoga practice cannot prevent a chance entanglement with a city bus. But in the pursuit of waking up middle-aged and feeling some sort of baseline good, these things also aren't entirely pointless. And even if their only function was to serve as an elaborate series of emotional supports against a large and ever-looming vulnerability, then so be it, who cares. They—along with a daily, delicious, salty-sweet, 30g-of-protein smoothie with yes, two cups of raw f*cking spinach—are your chosen satisfactions, and worthwhile indulgences of the meantime. Serve in your favorite glass, and please, really, just try to chill.
This post emailed out 4.11.2025 with newsletter-exclusive extras. Subscribe here.